


The Children's Hour

by EASchechter



Series: On his Brother-in-Law's Secret Service. [17]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Cabin Pressure, Man From U.N.C.L.E., Sherlock (TV), The Avengers (2012), Torchwood
Genre: F/M, M/M, Spoiler warning: Torchwood: Children of Earth, warning: miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-22 10:54:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EASchechter/pseuds/EASchechter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To what lengths will Mycroft go to save his granddaughter and his step-children from the 456?</p><p>(Tie in to Torchwood: Children of Earth)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

At three o'clock in the morning, there is something menacing about the sound of a ringing telephone. There is never any good news that has to be passed on at three in the morning.

John jerked out of a sound sleep, lunging for the edge of the bed and grabbing his mobile. He didn't even bother to look at the caller ID, he just connected. "What?" he growled. "What's wrong?"

Mycroft's voice on the other end, sounding... Good Lord, the man actually sounded frightened. "John... Vatican cameos."

"Mycroft? What is it?" John was fully awake now, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

"Take Jim and Sherlock to the airfield now. Go fast, and go armed. Martin and Olivia will meet you there. Greg is already on his way with Lucy and David, as are Douglas and Helena and Emma. Martin already has his orders. If you are not at the airfield in forty-five minutes, he'll lift without you."

"Mycroft, what the _hell_?"

"There is no time, John. Follow your orders. I'll meet you there, if I can." The line went dead, and John turned to see Jim and Sherlock both sitting up.

"What's wrong?" Jim asked.

"No idea. Get dressed. We have three-quarters of an hour to get to the airfield, and we're on high alert."

Jim rolled out of bed and headed for the closet, pulling out a large lock-box. He keyed in the combination and opened it, starting to pull out weapons. John nodded and started to pull on clothes, wondering what the hell had scared Mycroft.

"John?"

"I don't know, love," he said to Sherlock. "What I do know is that Mycroft was scared."

"Mycroft? Scared?" Jim echoed. "Shit. All right, we're locked and loaded. Let me throw on clothes and we'll get out of here. How are we going to get there? Cab?"

"No," Sherlock said, pulling his shirt on and quickly buttoning it. "No, if whatever this is has shaken Mycroft this badly, he won't want us to be traced. John? Do you think this is related to the children?"

John looked at Sherlock and nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Mycroft said that Greg is on his way with Lucy and David. And Douglas and Helena are bringing Emma."

Sherlock scowled and looked at Jim. "Assume we're on the run."

"Right. Right, it's been a while since I had to think like that." Jim dragged his hand through his hair, leaving it standing in rumpled spikes. He closed his eyes, then nodded. "Right. Mind if I break the law?"

"Not at all," John answered.

"Fine. Let's go."

#

It had been a very good thing that Martin hadn't been asleep when the call had come in. He'd been awake and still dressed, and had been able to get Livvy up almost immediately. Between the two of them, they'd bundled a still-asleep Violet into the car and were almost to the airfield before she'd woken up, crying and confused. Martin knew how she felt, had felt that way since the first time his beloved daughter had frozen in her tracks and announced "We are coming."

"Martin, did Papa say anything to explain?" Livvy asked.

"Nothing. Just Vatican cameos and get to the airfield. We're to go to Scotland. The Slayers are expecting us. We're to lift in--" he glanced at the dashboard clock. "fifteen minutes, regardless of who is missing."

"Everyone with children," Livvy murmured. "We're taking everyone with children. Why?"

"I don't know, love," Martin answered, turning the car into the for-some-reason-open gate and pulling up to the MJN office. The lights inside were ablaze, and Carolyn hurried out towards them as Martin stopped the car.

"Thank God you're here," she said breathlessly. "Mycroft called. He told me that you have to get away. Douglas and his family are already here, and on-board. He's started the checks."

"Right. Is anyone else here?" Martin asked as he helped Livvy-- seven months pregnant and, in her own words, large as a house -- out of the car. Then he reached in and picked up Violet, who had started to cry again.

"Not yet. Martin, what is happening?"

"I don't know, Carolyn. Are you coming with us?"

"I'm not sure," Carolyn answered. "Go on board now. Here, give Violet to me, I'll carry her." Carolyn took the squalling child from Martin and nodded towards GERTI. "Go on."

Martin glanced at Livvy, who nodded, then turned and sprinted towards the waiting plane. "Douglas, it's me!" he called as he ran up the steps. He looked to the right as he came into the cabin, seeing Helena and Douglas' daughter, Emma, sitting towards the rear of the plane.

"Thank God," Douglas said. He came out of the cockpit and caught Martin's arm. "What the hell is this all about, Martin? Calls in the middle of the night, orders to collect the family and run. What is going on?"

"I don't know, Douglas," Martin answered. "But Mycroft wouldn't do this if he wasn't serious. How close are we to ready?"

"Almost done,"

"Good. Get the checks finished. I'll--"

"Martin, someone is coming!" Livvy called from outside. Martin turned and dashed down the steps, drawing his pistol as he reached the tarmac.

"Get on board," he said over his shoulder. "It might be Greg. Or John."

"Or it might be someone else," Carolyn added, shifting the now-quiet Violet in her arms. "Come on, Livvy. Watch your step, dear."

Martin turned to make sure they were safe on board, then took a sentry post on the steps, watching as a car grew closer. In the dark, he couldn't see anything other than headlights...

Then the car stopped, and Martin sighed in relief as John, Sherlock and Jim climbed out and rushed towards the plane.

"Martin, report," John demanded crisply.

"We're still waiting on the Detective Inspector and his children," Martin answered. "As soon as they're on board, or in ten minutes, whichever comes first, we're lifting for Scotland. Mycroft said to lift without him if he wasn't here."

"Scotland?" John repeated. "Why?"

"The Slayers are expecting us. And... I think they're going to be protecting us. What do you know?"

"Not a fucking thing," John answered. "Right. Sherlock, Jim, on board. Sherlock, go help with Vee."

"Car coming," Jim said softly. Martin nodded; he'd seen it turn into the gate. it was coming fast, and the reason became clear as another car followed the first. That one had lights and sirens blaring.

"Shit," Martin breathed. "Douglas, start the engines!" he shouted.

"What?" Douglas shouted back. "But the checks aren't done!"

"We're out of time!" Martin looked at Jim and Sherlock. "You'd best get on board. John, you, too."

"I'm covering you," John answered.

The first car screeched to a halt, and Greg Lestrade jumped out of the passenger side, opening the door and dragging his two children out of the back seat. They ran towards GERTI, and Martin stepped aside to give them room to get on board, watching as Mycroft got out of the car. Mycroft looked towards them, and Martin saw him hesitate.

"Go!" he called. "For the love of God, go!" He turned, then, and raised his hands, walking towards the other car.

"My!" Greg shouted. "My, what are you doing?" He started to push past Martin, who turned and grabbed him. John, he noticed, had grabbed Greg's other arm.

"He's giving us a chance," John hissed. "He's giving us a chance to save the children! Don't waste it!"

Greg stared at John for a moment, then moaned softly and turned, following his children up the steps. John followed, and Martin came behind, sealing the hatch behind him, then diving into the cockpit and into his seat.

"Tell me we're ready," he demanded as he pulled on his headset.

"We're ready," Douglas answered.

"Right." Martin glanced out the windshield, saw someone coming towards them at a run. "Hold on, everyone, this is going to be a rough trip!"


	2. Chapter 2

Rough trip didn't even begin to describe it. Martin was certain that he'd heard the ping of bullets striking GERTI's outer skin as they took off, and the faster-than-usual ascent had rattled the plane hard. The passenger compartment was filled with the crying of unhappy, frightened children, and Martin could clearly hear Vee amidst the din.

"We're away?" he asked softly.

"Assuming you don't listen to air traffic control insisting that we land, then yes. We're away," Douglas answered. "You realize we'll probably never fly again, Martin?"

"Mycroft will fix it," Martin answered. Then stopped and realized that he wasn't even certain if his father-in-law was still alive. "It will be all right, Douglas."

"Just keep saying that," Douglas said. "Somehow, when you say it, it does turn out all right. Mind if I go check on my ladies?"

"Go ahead." Martin kept a close eye on his instruments, worried about the gunfire. It was only a short flight -- not even an hour and a half. But if any of those shots had hit the fuel tank...

"That was gunfire I heard, wasn't it?" Carolyn asked quietly.

"I think so," Martin answered.

"Will we make it to Edinburgh?"

Martin looked back and smiled slightly. "If I have to get out and push."

Carolyn smiled and nodded. "I should call Arthur and Molly. Let them know... oh. No, I can't do that, can I?"

"I'm afraid not, no."

"Martin, what is happening? Is this about what is happening with the children?"

Martin shook his head. "I don't know. But given that we've got every single child even remotely connected to the department or the Holmes family on this flight, I think it would be a safe bet." He looked up. "How's Livvy?"

"Uncomfortable," Carolyn answered. "A bit air-sick, I'm afraid. John is seeing to her."

"Damn. Tell her I'm sorry, will you?"

"I'll tell her. I'll let you fly," Carolyn said. She patted Martin on the shoulder and left, passing Douglas as he came back into the cockpit.

"Martin," he said as he sat down. "I've thought of something."

"Yes?"

"Air traffic control knows where we're going, don't they?" Douglas asked. "So what's to stop them from meeting us when we get to Edinburgh?"

"I imagine there will be someone waiting at Edinburgh, but they'll be waiting a long time." Martin looked over at Douglas and smiled. "We're not going to Edinburgh."

Douglas coughed, then asked, "Where are we going, then?"

"Private airfield, about thirty kilometers outside Edinburgh." Martin glanced at the fuel gauge and grimaced. "I hope."

#

John went to one knee next to the couch and rested his hand on Livvy's forehead. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Shaky," she answered. "Sick. Truly awful. How's Violet?"

"Granpa Sherlock has worked his magic. She's asleep," John answered with a smile. "Livvy, do you have any idea what is happening?"

"No," Livvy answered. "You know I'm not officially in the inner circle any more. Papa thinks he's protecting me and Vee. And I've been even less in the know for the past few months." She rested one hand on her belly and sighed. "Apparently, boys are more difficult."

"Well, I suppose. He is a Holmes male, after all," John said, feigning seriousness. "It's part of the DNA."

"I heard that."

Livvy giggled at Sherlock's aggrieved tone, then sighed and closed her eyes. "I wish I knew what was happening. And Papa... what could have gone so wrong?"

"I don't know. We'll find out once we're safe," John said. He looked at his watch and nodded. "Another half an hour, we'll be on the ground."

"Good."

#

"I was afraid of that," Martin grumbled. He reached out and tapped the fuel gauge, then cursed softly.

Douglas looked at the gauge and grimaced. "We took a hit, didn't we? Fuel leak?"

"Looks like it," Martin answered. "Start looking for a place to land. We're not going to make the airfield."

Douglas nodded, then asked, "You can't... I don't know... keep us in the air?"

"Don't you start," Martin answered sourly. "It's bad enough when Arthur does it. No, we're in for an emergency landing."

"In the dark?"

"Not my first choice, but I also can't make the sun rise any faster. Ah... damn it. We can't call Buffy and let her know."

"So what do we do?"

Martin scowled down at the controls and started to roll up his sleeves. "First? We land." He reached out and tapped the button on the cabin intercom. "All right, everyone. Find a seat and get strapped in. If you thought the take-off was rough, you haven't felt the landing yet. I apologize in advance." He turned off the intercom and looked at Douglas. "Got a place for me?"

Douglas nodded. He took a long breath and crossed himself, somberly intoning, "Spectacles, testicles, wallet, keys. All right. We're in the hands of the Almighty. There's a very large lack of anything to the northwest. I think it might be a field. Or it might be lake."

"Pray for a field."


	3. Chapter 3

Silently, Martin was terrified. He'd trained for emergency landings. All pilots did. But it was training he'd hoped he'd never have to use, and had all been done in a simulator. Simulator training was a vastly different thing from actually having to land a plane blind, with your pregnant wife and three-year-old daughter on board.

"How's our wind?" he asked, his eyes never leaving the instrument panel. Height above ground was good, speed was good. If they had enough fuel...

"You don't want to know," Douglas muttered. "We've got a crosswind. Have you... ever done this before?"

"No," Martin answered. "Have you?"

"In simulators." Douglas rested his hands on the yoke. "Ready?"

Martin glanced at him. "Of course not." He looked up, took a deep breath, and murmured, "I'd say how could this get any worse, but I'm afraid of what might happen." As if in response, the engines sputtered and died. "Oh, fuck! Really?" Martin snapped. "This isn't funny, GERTI!"

"Who are you talking to?" Carolyn demanded.

"Get back in your seat and strap in!" Martin ordered without turning. "We're out of fuel. I'm going for a dead-stick landing. Brace yourselves. Douglas, tell me I have a field?"

"It does appear to be a field."

"Good. Now... tell me there are no cows in it?"

"At this time of night? Probably no cows. Although that might not be the worst thing. They'd slow us down..."

"Douglas..."

"Right. Field. Perhaps no cows. What approach?"

"I was thinking the 360, heading into the wind."

"In this wind, and not knowing what's down there, that might be best. Belt yourself in. I've got the old girl."

Martin nodded and let Douglas take control, securing all of his belts and padding. When he took the yoke, he saw out of the corner of his eye Douglas doing the same. "129 KPH on the mark. Good," he murmured. "Height above ground.... good. All right. Going for the high approach. Douglas, keep your eyes open."

"Roger.... good pass.... can't see anything... wait... haybales! That's a field full of haybales."

"Good. Did you see a landing site?"

"I'm not sure. Can we make another pass?"

"We're getting awfully low, Douglas."

"I'm aware of that. Well... haybales won't do too much damage, will they?"

Martin nodded once, then looked up. "All right, old girl," he said softly. "We're taken care of you the best we know how. Now it's your turn."

"Amen," Douglas added.

#

Haybales, it turned out, could do more damage than either Douglas or Martin would have given them credit. On the plus side, they did a great deal for killing momentum. On the minus, it was unlikely GERTI was ever going to lift again. Martin wasn't sure of the extent of the damage, and he wasn't going to stop to find out. He pulled off his belts and and got to his feet, trying to ignore his shaking.

"Come on," he urged Douglas. "Someone's going to have seen us come down. And they'll call the police--"

"So we need to be elsewhere. Right. Where?"

"Right now, all I've got is somewhere else. Get whatever we've got for weapons, and torches. We need to get clear of this field now--" Martin stopped as he came into the passenger compartment, seeing John crouched next to Livvy's seat. Seeing Livvy's paper-white face.

"Martin, what are we doing?" Carolyn demanded, shaking Martin free from his sudden fear-induced shock.

"Running," Martin answered. He looked around. "Is anyone hurt?"

"No. No, we're all fine. That was an excellent landing. What do you need for us to do?"

Martin refrained from asking why, if no one was hurt, John looked so worried. "Ah... help Sherlock with Vee, will you, Carolyn? Helena, can you and Emma help Greg with Lucy and David?"

"Of course," Helena answered. "Are you all right?"

"Can I answer that later?" Martin asked. "We need to get clear, and fast. What do we have for weapons?"

"Martin..."

"We're all armed," Jim volunteered. "John, Sherlock and me."

"Good. That makes five guns--"

"Six," Greg interrupted.

"Martin..."

"Six guns. Right..." Martin looked around again. "John, Sherlock, Livvy, me, Vee and Carolyn. Greg, your two, Jim, Douglas, Helena and Emma. That's three guns in each group. How many torches, Douglas?"

"Three."

"Martin!"

"Good. Good. Take two in your group, give one to Carolyn. I won't need one." Martin looked around again. "Carolyn, as fast as you can, pack supplies. Water, food, anything we can carry. Helena, help her."

"MARTIN!"

Martin stopped and stared at John. "I... don't think I've ever heard you shout before," he said weakly.

"Yeah, well, you normally don't show the Holmes tendency to need it. We are not going anywhere," John said firmly.

"We can't stay here--" Martin started to say. Then he looked past John at Livvy and felt his stomach pitch. "Oh, God."

"We can't move her," John said softly. "Look... take the children. Leave me and Livvy here. When they find us, they'll take her to a hospital. That's what she needs right now."

"No!" Martin blurted out, and wasn't surprised by the echoes from both Sherlock and Jim.

"John, if they take you, there is no guarantee we'll ever see either of you again," Sherlock said. "Look at this. Look at what is happening here. Everything that has happened. Mycroft knew none of it, or he'd have sent us away sooner. This came as a surprise to him. There is no way that should have happened--"

"He's been cut out of the loop," Greg said, coming up next to Sherlock. "He said it in the car." Greg held up a thumb drive. "He gave me this, said he'd sent the same files on to the Slayers. Said to give it to you, John, or to Martin. He got this much down before they shut him out of the system."

John licked his lips and looked at the thumb drive. "You hold on to that, Greg," he said eventually. "I'm... going to be busy. And so is Martin."

"So if we can't run, what can we do?" Carolyn asked.

"Hold this spot until help comes," Martin answered. He wrapped his arms around himself and scowled, thinking. Then he nodded. "We were... what, Douglas? Half an hour from the airfield? Less?"

"Twenty-three minutes."

"Right. So if someone started out from the airfield now, it would take them..." he closed his eyes, thinking, then shook his head. "Damn it. I can't figure the distance."

"Nine, maybe ten kilometers," Douglas supplied.

"That's all?" Martin gasped, then relaxed. "We can hold this spot, we can hold GERTI secure for under an hour."

"Right. I'll call--" John reached for his mobile, stopping when Jim caught his arm.

"No. They can track that."

"They can't track me," Martin muttered. He held his hands out in front of him, concentrating. A blue glow slowly built up between his hands, growing steadily brighter until he gestured and it spun away into the air, out through GERTI's hull.

"What was that?" Helena asked. "Apart from pretty?"

"A beacon," Martin answered. "Something Willow and I worked out. It's keyed to her. Now that I've released it, she knows where we are. They'll come for us."

"Fine. Wonderful. So now we just sit and wait," Carolyn snapped and sat down, her arms folded over her chest.

"We're not going to be waiting for long," Jim called. He was crouched near one of the windows, looking out. "I see lights."


	4. Chapter 4

"There's no possible way that can be the Slayers. Not that fast," Douglas said as he joined Jim at the window.

"It isn't. Look." Jim pointed. "Look. Flashing lights. We have police."

"Local police might not know we're fugitives," John murmured. "Greg, you might be able to gull them--"

"Do we really want to take that chance?" Greg asked. "With all the kids, and with Liv?"

"We can't," Martin answered, looking out the window. "We can't take that chance. We have to hold GERTI."

"What are you planning, Merlin?" Carolyn wanted to know. "How exactly are you going to destroy my plane? I mean, even more than you already have?"

Martin ignored her. He was tired, but he could do this for an hour. For Vee, and for Liv. "I need to get outside," he said. "Douglas, open the hatch. Then close it behind me."

"Martin!"

Martin turned and looked at Livvy, then went to kneel beside her seat. He took her hands and looked into her eyes. "It's all right, darling. I'll make sure they don't get you or Violet. You... focus on Alexander." He licked his lips and tried to smile. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she answered. "Don't do anything stupid, Sir Darling. Because if you do something stupid, then once I have this baby, I will kick your arse from here to Sussex."

Martin snickered, rose, then leaned down and kissed Livvy. Then he went to the hatch and nodded to Douglas. Without a word, Douglas opened the hatch and lowered the steps; with the hatch open, they could clearly hear the approaching sirens. Martin stepped out into the cool night air, hearing the hatch closing behind him as he sat down on the damp grass. Ground... center... draw down the power... he felt the tingling under his skin as the magic flowed over and through him.

A dim blue glow spread out from him, expanding slowly until it encompassed the entire ruined plane. Martin opened his eyes to see men getting out of cars. Only some of the uniforms were police.

"Sir Martin Crieff," one of the military men announced. "You're surrounded."

"I realize that," Martin called out.

"Surrender, and no one will be harmed."

"No."

#

Inside GERTI, John looked out the window and bit down on a string of curses.

"Those are UNIT uniforms!" he snapped. "If UNIT's turned on us--"

"UNIT doesn't know all the department secrets," Jim assured him. "I wonder what happened with Torchwood. Are they with us, or against us?"

"If Jack is against us, we're fucked," John muttered. "I'm more worried about Napoleon and Illya. And Tobe and Anthea."

"They know to go to ground, and Mycroft probably warned them when he warned us." Sherlock rested his hand on John's shoulder. "Honestly, I wouldn't worry about Torchwood."

"Why not?" Jim asked.

"If the British government can turn on the department so easily, they've probably also turned on Torchwood. They're up to something, and any force not under their complete control is likely to be eliminated." Sherlock crouched and looked out the window, then looked at Jim and John. "They have their own worries, I should think. Assuming they're still alive."

"Christ, Sherlock," Greg muttered. "Remember the kids!"

"You think anything I say is going to frighten them more than being dragged from their beds in the middle of the night, bundled into an airplane and then crashing in a field?" Sherlock asked, looking puzzled.

"Besides, they're all asleep," Carolyn added. "Helena and I got them all bundled up in the baggage compartment. It's quiet in there, and... well, it's quiet. Helena is in with them, Douglas."

Douglas nodded, but he didn't answer; he'd moved to stand in the cockpit door. To where he could see out, John realized.

"Good thinking," John said. "Thank you."

"Those seats there recline flat," Carolyn pointed to the set of four seats facing each other. "We can make Livvy more comfortable. Doctor, do you think--"

"I don't know," John interrupted, his voice low. "I know damned little about obstetrics."

"Would you mind if I gave orders?" Carolyn asked slowly.

John blinked, confused. "You know obstetrics?"

"Not... so much. Call it... prior experience."

"Carolyn--"

Carolyn held up one hand. "Not another word. Now, let's have those seats flat, so Olivia can lay down. She should lay on her left side. And she should drink. It could simply be stress."

"Yes, ma'am," John said, and went to work on the seats.

#

Martin looked down at his watch. It had been just over an hour since he'd stepped up to hold the line. Where _were_ they? He was starting to feel punch-drunk from the effort of keeping this much magic flowing. The local police had gone, and all that were left were the UNIT troops.

"Martin, this is ridiculous," one of the UNIT officers called -- Martin had already forgotten his name. He walked up to the glowing barrier but stopped short of touching it. The last man who'd touched it still hadn't regained consciousness.

"Really? Then why don't you explain to me just what we're doing here?" Martin called back. "Why my father-in-law found it necessary to send us running? Oh, and while we're at it, you can tell me where exactly he is."

"I assure you that Mycroft Holmes is in safe custody--"

"Custody. Why is that, exactly? What crime has he committed? Have any of us committed?" Martin let his temper flare, and the barrier edged towards the UNIT officer and forced him back. "Leave us alone, and let us go."

"I'm afraid we can't do that, Martin."

"'Fraid that's exactly what you're gonna do, mate."

Martin didn't know the voice, definitely didn't know the bleached-blond man who just appeared behind the officer. There were other shapes moving out in the darkness, Martin realized as he got to his feet, and the fighting was ugly, but brief. Thankfully, none of the UNIT troops had been given a chance to draw a weapon -- Martin wasn't all that certain his shields would stop a bullet.

The blond walked up the barrier, looked at it, then nodded. "So. You're Red's little apprentice. Nice work."

"Red?" Martin repeated. "I... who are you?"

"Sorry. Old friend of the family. Name's Spike. You can...ah... turn the fireworks off now. We're here to take you home."

"Martin!"

At the sound of Willow's voice, Martin let go of the shields; his legs crumpled, and he sat down hard. Almost immediately, there was someone on either side of him. On his left, Spike. And on his right, Willow.

"I'm sorry, we got here as fast as we could," she babbled at him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Tired. Look, we need to get out of here. We need..." he stopped and looked back at the closed hatch. "Livvy might be having a miscarriage."

"Oh. Oh, no," Willow whispered. "All right. Ah..." She looked around, frowned. "Spike--"

"I'll fetch the kids, bring the van over. We don't want to bump too much." Spike rose and disappeared into the darkness, and Willow helped Martin to stand.

"Who is that?"

"An old friend. I'll introduce you properly later."

Martin nodded and went to the hatch, banging on the side. "Open up, Douglas! Help is here."

The hatch opened, and Douglas appeared in the doorway. "Is it safe?"

"Hi, Douglas!" Willow chirped. "Come on. Spike is bringing the van. How many do you have in there?"

"Nine adults, four children," Douglas answered.

"Right. We'll put Livvy and the kids in the van. We can split everyone else up in the cars," Willow said. She turned at the sound of a horn, waving as a black van drove up alongside GERTI.

"Willow?" Martin asked slowly. "Why is the windshield painted black?"

"Oh, so Spike doesn't get burned when the sun rises."

Martin blinked, looked at his friend and mentor, and closed his eyes. "He's a vampire?"

"I never told you about Spike?" Willow asked. "Yeah, he's a vampire. But it's okay. He has a soul."

"Right. Of course. That makes everything all right." Martin turned and went inside GERTI, looking around.

"She's asleep," Carolyn said softly.

"Good. That's good. Is she... any better?" Martin asked.

"We seem to have slowed things down," John answered. "I'm hoping that once we get where ever we're going, we'll be able to stop it, and she and the baby will be all right. Willow, good to see you."

"Wish I could say the same," Willow said. "Let's get out of here. Once we're away, I can cover our tracks. There's a nice low pressure system building."

"Oh, you're going to cloud-burst?" Martin asked.

Willow grinned, "Yeah. I like it."

"Good. Have fun. Right now, I don't think I could get it to rain if it was already raining." Martin went over to the makeshift bed and knelt down, touching Livvy's cheek. She smiled and opened her eyes. "Time to go, Lady Crieff."

"Can I help?" Martin turned and looked up to see Spike looking down at him. "No offense, mate, but you don't look like you can keep yourself on your feet. Best not to be dropping the missus. Especially now."

"If you bite her, I will kill you myself," Martin said softly.

"Yeah, that's what they all say," Spike said with a grin. Then he looked around and asked aloud, "Will someone please tell me why the lanky git is staring?"

"Probably because he's not used to seeing walking corpses," Jim answered. "The last one tried to turn him into an hors d'oeuvre."

"Ah. Okay. I'm not like that any more," Spike said. He looked at Sherlock and arched an eyebrow. "Although I can see why they went for you. That's one hell of a nice throat. Bloody gourmet feast--"

"Spike!"

"All right, Red. I'll behave," Spike said. He picked Livvy up gently and started towards the door, and Martin heard him muttering as he walked away. "... seriously, though. I've seen vampire porn that didn't have throats like that..."

"The cars are here," Willow called.

"Right. Let's get the kids awake and get moving," Douglas said. "The sooner we get out of here, the happier I'll be."

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Martin found himself in the back of the van, sitting on the floor with Livvy's head pillowed on his legs, and Violet curled against his other side, listening as the rain conjured by Willow pounded on the van roof. Also in the van were Willow, John, and Greg and his children. John had pulled Spike off to the side before they'd left, and Martin had a good idea of what the whispered conversation might have been -- Spike drove carefully, almost sedately, and every so often, he called out, "Everyone all right back there?"

"We're fine, Spike," Martin said, running his fingers through Livvy's hair. "How much longer?"

"Not too long," Spike answered.

"Which reminds me," Willow said. Martin heard something beeping, then Willow spoke,"Hi. Yeah, we're on our way back. Buffy, you should call Heather. We're going to need her. Livvy's not doing too well. Six months, I think? Martin?"

"Just seven months," Martin called back.

"Thanks. Did you hear, Buffy? What? Ah... about half an hour, forty minutes, I think. Right. Bye."

"Who is Heather?" John asked. "We want to keep this to the inner circle, Willow."

"Heather is Doctor Heather MacTavish. She's a member of the local coven, and she's sort of the Slayers' doctor. She also delivered all of Dawn's kids."

"You have an obstetrician?" There was no mistaking the relief in John's voice.

"Sort of. She's a GP. But she'll be able to help."

"Willow, we've got flashers," Spike said abruptly. "Can you hide us? I'm not taking us off-road. Not now."

Martin felt Willow's magic flowing around them, settling into the side of the van against his back. "What about the others?" he asked.

"They've already peeled off," Spike answered. "There are four different ways to get back to Slayer Central from here going off road. They'll be okay. So, do we have any idea what the hell is going on here?"

"What do you know?" John asked. "If you know anything, it's more than we do."

"Not much," Willow answered. "Dawn's kids got all weird and trancey, then... well, then Mycroft called and told us you were coming. And he sent some files, but told us to wait until you got here. Wait, where is he? I just realized I didn't see him on the plane."

"He gave himself up to give us a chance to get away," Greg answered, his voice low.

"Willow, has anyone tried to call Torchwood?" John asked. "Sherlock had the idea that if the government would turn on the department, they'd also turn on Torchwood. And probably the Slayers, too."

"Anyone comes looking for Slayers, they're going to find Slayers, all right," Spike said. "They just won't like it when they do."

"Good," Greg said, his voice flat. "I just... how many times have you lot saved the world? How could they do this to you? To us?"

"We still don't know what's going on, Greg," John said. "We can't even be sure if it is the government--"

"Really? You're going to try to defend them?" Greg demanded.

"I'm not defending anyone," John protested. "You think I don't know that the government can do monstrous things, Greg? All I'm saying is that we don't _know._ "

"Can you both please stop it?" Livvy asked, her voice quiet. "Please?"

"Right... sorry, Liv," Greg muttered. He wrapped his arms around Lucy and David and sighed. "Look, I'm just... worried. Scared."

"We all are," Martin said. "We all are." He flinched as wailing sirens passed the van, craning his neck to see out the gaps in the black-painted windshield.

"Nice work, Red," Spike murmured. "All right. Let's get home."

The rest of the drive was quiet, and Martin found himself dozing as they rode, until at last the van stopped and Spike announced, "Last stop. Everyone out."

The rear doors opened, and Martin looked up to see a familiar face. Buffy looked soberly inside and nodded. "Right. Let's get you inside. Doctor MacTavish is on her way."

Spike appeared at the door. "Mind if I lend a hand?" he asked.

"Thank you," Martin answered. He picked Violet up and got out of the van, watching as Spike moved to pick up Livvy. The vampire leaned over, then froze. He didn't turn, but Martin saw Livvy's eyes widen in shock.

"Spike?" Buffy asked.

"Blood. Fresh blood," Spike said. His words were slurred.

"Oh. Xander!" Buffy raised her voice, and a taller man wearing an eye-patch sprinted over to them. "Take Livvy. Spike, go... ah... go clear your head."

"Right. Sorry," Spike mumbled. He ducked his head and turned, hurrying away, but not before Martin saw his face, and how it had changed.

"Go on," John called. "I'll be right there."

Martin swallowed hard and followed Xander and Livvy into the house. He was met inside by a pretty woman with light brown hair.

"Hi. I'm Dawn," she said quickly. "Come on, I'll show you where you can get your daughter settled. Heather just got here. We'll should let her look at your wife."

"I... I should be with her."

Dawn nodded, sympathy clear in her eyes. "All right. I can take your little girl, then?"

Martin flinched, looking down at Violet. "Will you go with Miss Dawn, Pixie?"

"Want Mama," Violet answered, and yawned. "I'm sleepy, Daddy. I want Dog."

"Dog?" Dawn asked.

"Her stuffed dog," Martin answered. "I... we must have left it in the car. I'm sorry, Pixie. Dog isn't here. And Mama isn't feeling well."

"I might have a new friend for you?" Dawn offered. "Do you like bunnies?"

Violet looked shyly at Dawn and nodded. Dawn smiled and held her arms out. A moment later, she had an armload of little girl and was heading down the hall. "Xander will show you where the nursery is," she called over her shoulder. "I'll be putting Violet in with our girls."

"Thank you," Martin called after them. Then he turned and hurried off in the direction he'd last seen Xander and Livvy. He ended up back in the entryway, and found John there, talking with Buffy and another woman. John was frowning fiercely.

"What? What's wrong?" Martin asked.

"One of the cars didn't make it," John answered.

"Which one?" Martin demanded, then shook his head. "God, not Sherlock and Jim?"

John shook his head. "No. They just called. They'll be here in a few minutes. We've lost contact with Kayla's car. She had Douglas and his family."

"Douglas?" Martin repeated. "They..."

"Martin, we'll find them," Buffy said firmly. She rested her hand in his arm and met his eyes. "We'll find them. Faith is taking a team out right now. And Kayla is a good Slayer. She'll keep them safe until we reach them."

"It's okay," the other woman said. "I'll bring them back. Tell me about them, 'kay?"

"Douglas... he's... he's fifty-five, or thereabouts. Helena is younger. She's forty-ish. Not sure how old, really. Emma is just thirteen. Douglas, he's a good shot. And he's armed. He... I've been working with him, a bit, since Budapest and New York. Teaching him a bit of what I've learned from the department."

"What happened in New York?" Faith asked. "Wait. That whole alien thing? You were there?"

"Yes. We were both there."

"And you got out in one piece," Faith nodded, approvingly. "Good. So he's not going to scream and faint in an emergency. How about the ladies?"

"I don't know. But Douglas will back up the Slayer however she needs. He's done it for me more than once."

"Excellent. Hey, X-man! Wanna come hunting with me?"

"Yeah, I could go for killing something right now," Xander answered as he came into the entryway. "How's Spike?"

"A little weirded-out. Apparently, that was a first for him," Buffy answered. "See if he wants to go with you."

"Cool. I'll get the girls." Faith grinned and headed off down the hall, and Martin turned to Xander.

"Where's Livvy?" he asked.

"That way, down the hall. Second left, first door on the right. That's the infirmary. Doc Heather is with her." Xander paused, then shook his head. "Not going to lie, Martin. It doesn't look good."

Martin swallowed and nodded. "I know. I've known... since we landed." He laughed, once, brokenly. "His name was to be Alexander."

"His name is still Alexander," Xander said solemnly. "And he's still your son. Trust me on that."

"You? And Dawn?"

"Yeah. Our first. Her name was Anya. She... yeah, she was here for ten days." Xander reached out and squeezed Martin's shoulder. "Go be with your wife, Martin. She needs you."

Martin nodded, unable to speak, and turned away. Someone took his arm, and he looked to see John next to him.

"You... you should wait for Sherlock," Martin said quietly. "Let him know..."

"You're sure?" John asked.

Martin nodded and started down the hall. He remembered not a single step of the walk, or reaching the door to the infirmary. He didn't remember going inside or finding Livvy. He just remembered taking his wife in his arms and holding her as she cried.


	6. Chapter 6

John watched as Martin walked away, then turned to Xander. "Don't kill anyone," he said. "Not if you can help it."

"I agree," Buffy added. "No need to go looking for trouble."

"Aw, Mom!" Xander mock-whined. "You never let us have any fun."

"Xander."

"I know. I... need to bust a few heads, is all. Hey, Spike. Feeling up to recon?"

John turned to see Spike coming towards them. "Yeah. Sorry about that. I..."

"It's all right," Buffy murmured.

"Is she?" Spike asked. "I don't know much about pregnancy. But she shouldn't have been bleeding, right?"

"No," Xander answered. "And no, she's not all right."

Spike's eyes widened, and he turned away and swore creatively, and for several minutes. "It's their fault, isn't it?" he demanded. "The fucking idiots who sent a pregnant woman running for her life? Whoever is behind this whole mess?"

"Possibly," John answered.

"Not possibly," Xander snapped. "Probably. If Livvy had been safe at home in her own bed, this probably wouldn't have happened. And even if it had, there would have been time to get her to a hospital. They might have been able to save the baby."

"Olivia lost the baby?"

John turned to see Sherlock standing a few feet away, Carolyn and Jim behind him. Sherlock stared without blinking, then repeated himself. "Olivia lost the baby?"

"Sherlock--"

"My... our... our grandson... is dead?"

John closed his eyes as the reality hit home. "Yes."

"Sherlock," Carolyn said softly. "Sherlock, I am so... so very sorry--"

"Where are the files?" Sherlock snapped, acting as if he hadn't heard Carolyn at all. "The files that Mycroft sent. The thumb drive. Where are there? Where's Greg?"

"Here. I'm here," Greg called. "I was getting Lucy and David to sleep. What's happened?"

"The drive. Give it to me," Sherlock demanded, holding his hand out. "I need to find the answers." Greg reached into his pocket and pulled out the drive. He passed it to Sherlock, who looked at Buffy. "I need someplace where I can work. A computer, a good one. No. Two."

"Sure. I want answers, too. Just..." Buffy looked around. "Right. Xander, get lost."

"On it." Xander and Spike took off down another hallway. Buffy frowned and looked around again. "Okay. Sherlock, who and what do you need, exactly?"

"I need a pair of good computers, and I need Jim."

"Right. Computers we've got, but you need Willow or Giles to get you onto the network. That's not my thing," Buffy frowned. "Where the hell is Willow?"

"She went with Livvy," John answered. "So, she's probably still in the infirmary."

Buffy nodded. "Giles is most likely asleep--"

"I was asleep," Giles muttered as he came into the entryway. "I'm not, anymore." He put his glasses on and looked around. "This doesn't look good. What do we need?"

"Sherlock and Jim need computers, and they need access to the files that Mycroft sent."

"Of course. Gentlemen?" Giles gestured and Sherlock and Jim followed. John watched them go and sighed, rubbing one hand over his face.

"What did I miss, John?" Greg asked.

"Greg, not now," Buffy said softly.

"Come along, Detective Inspector," Carolyn added. She took Greg's arm and led him away, and Buffy touched John's arm.

"Grandson?" she asked. "Did I miss something?"

John looked at her and shrugged. "Mycroft isn't Livvy's father. Sherlock is. Long story."

Buffy nodded. "I... can imagine. No... no, actually I can't. So no wonder he looks like he wants to kill someone. Maybe we should have sent him with Xander?"

"No, he's better off where he is. He'll do more damage this way. Where did Xander say the infirmary was?"

"I'll walk with you," Buffy said. She was quiet as they walked, something that John appreciated. He didn't want to talk. He wanted to scream.

Maybe _he_ should have gone with Xander.

Buffy opened the door and let John enter, then stepped inside behind him and closed the door. "Heather?" she called softly.

"Just a moment," a woman answered, her voice accented with a light brogue. She walked into view, drying her hands on a towel, an older woman with a sweet, open face. She sniffed slightly. "I wish I had better news, Buffy."

"I know. Xander told us. How--"

"She's devastated, and her husband is just as bad," Heather answered. "They've said goodbye to the baby, and Andrew's offered to see the boy buried here, in the Slayer's yard. Thankfully, it was a complete... I'm sorry, I've said too much."

"No, no, it's all right, " John said.

"Heather, this is Doctor John Watson," Buffy added. "He's Livvy's uncle."

"Ah. I'm sorry for the loss, Doctor," Heather said gravely. "What I was going to say was that I won't need to do anything further for her. She delivered the baby and the placenta, and I don't think she'll need any further procedures."

"Can you tell that without an ultrasound?" John asked.

"We have one," Buffy murmured.

Heather nodded. "We'll keep an eye on her for a few days, monitor her. Right now, she's asleep. Naturally, thank goodness. I'm not wanting to sedate her. Not so soon. And... where did her husband go?"

#

Martin stumbled through another door and found himself outside, standing on a wide balcony that seemed to wrap around the upper story of the house. No, this was a castle. Which made this the ramparts. Or something. He started walking, jamming his hands into his pockets and ducking his head.

So tiny. So tiny, and so perfect. Born sleeping, the doctor had said, when she'd come to take him away for the last time. They'd bury him here, for now. Livvy had said something about bringing him home to Sussex, though. Later. When it was safe.

Would it ever be safe?

Martin tripped over his own feet, stumbled and landed hard on his hands and knees, scraping his palms raw on the rough stone. It was too much -- he curled into a ball with his back against the stones and wept.

He wasn't sure how long it was before someone found him there. He'd long since cried himself out, and he sat there watching the sun rise, not wanting to move. Then a familiar voice called his name.

"Martin?"

He looked up and blinked. "Douglas! You... you're all right?"

"We're fine. We're fine. Had a bit of a scare, and a bit of an exciting row, and now Emma wants to be a Slayer when she grows up." Douglas came closer and held his hand out. "How long have you been up here? Everyone is worried about you."

"I'm not sure," Martin admitted, slowly stretching out stiff legs and wiping his nose on his sleeve. "I... do you know?"

"I know, Martin," Douglas said, his voice warm with concern. "I know." He offered his hand again. "I'm sorry, Martin."

Martin looked at Douglas' outstretched hand for a moment, then took it and let Douglas help him up. And was surprised to find himself once more weeping, crying into Douglas' shoulder as the older man held him and murmured soft words of comfort.

"It's all right, Martin. It's all right. I've got you."


	7. Chapter 7

"Did you find him?" John asked as Douglas came into the dining room.

"Yes. He's having a bit of a wash-up," Douglas answered. "He'll be here in a moment."

"You were gone for an hour," Willow said. "Did it take you that long? I didn't think the directions I gave you were that awful."

"Oh, I found him right off. But he needed some privacy, and a trusted ear." Douglas sat down and looked longingly at the empty coffeepot. "He'll want some of that, I think."

"And so do you?" Willow asked with a smile. "Sure. Will he want to eat, do you think?"

"Probably."

"I'll get him something breakfasty." Willow left the room and Douglas sighed and shook his head.

"Tell me he's not blaming himself," John asked softly.

"No, he's not. Or at least, not much. Martin is fairly pragmatic, thankfully. He knows full well that if we hadn't been on the run, and if we hadn't had to land a dead plane in a hayfield, that none of this would have happened. So he's put the blame squarely in the lap of whoever it is who did this. If only we knew."

"Do we know?" Martin asked as he came into the dining room. "And is Livvy awake?"

"Livvy is awake and was having breakfast when I left her. And she understands that you might want to have a bit of time to yourself. She does want you there before she tells Violet, though," John answered.

"And we know," Jim added from the doorway. He leaned against the doorframe and yawned. "We know something."

"What? And 'scuse me," Willow said from behind him. Jim stepped inside and let her pass, then took the coffeepot from the tray she was carrying and poured a mugful for himself.

"More information than we had," he answered once he'd drunk half of his mug. "And I'm not entirely sure we have all of it, even now. Sherlock is still working. He thinks they might be on to him, though, so he's grabbing and dumping to disk as fast as he can."

"So what do we know?" Martin demanded. "Who killed my son?"

Jim looked at Martin for a moment, then nodded. "Well, we know why, if not exactly who. The why is aliens. There's a race called the 456. They came to Earth in 1965, demanded twelve kids in return for the cure to a disease. And... we gave them over."

"What?" John demanded.

"Yeah. Twelve kids. Just handed over like sheep. Here's the damned thing... according to the files we found, one of the people who escorted those kids was one Captain Jack Harkness."

"No way!" Willow gasped. "Jack wouldn't do that!"

"Maybe not now, but fifty years ago?" Douglas asked. "Who knows what he was like fifty years ago. People change. I imagine immortal people change more than most."

"Regardless, according to these files, the four people who were involved in that transaction in 1965 were all ordered to be eliminated three days ago. Which is when the 456 came back."

"My God," Martin breathed, sitting down hard and resting his hands on the table. "Another alien threat?"

"There's more," Jim added. "Remember Sherlock said something about Torchwood being targeted? He was right. Torchwood Three is gone. The news is reporting it as a terrorist attack on Roald Dahl Plas."

John sat up straighter. "There was another attack reported, wasn't there? The department is gone, too."

"Gone?" Buffy asked. "But, what about Napoleon and Illya? And Tobe and Anthea?"

"No data," Sherlock answered as he came into the dining room. "Yes, there was an explosion reported overnight, and it appears to be in the area of the warehouse. Things are happening now. There was a pillar of fire reported over Thames House this morning."

"What time?" Buffy demanded.

"Why?"

"Because the children all went into trance again this morning. This time it was numbers. Dawn wrote it down, because we weren't sure of what it meant." She took a piece of paper from her pocket and set it down on the table. Sherlock picked it up and frowned.

"Jim?" He passed the paper over, and Jim's eyes widened.

"This... I think so. Give me a minute to confirm." He disappeared out the door.

"When did this happen?" Martin asked.

"An hour or two ago," Buffy answered. "You... were busy."

Martin licked his lips and nodded. "And... Vee?"

"Carolyn and Helena were there. According to them, Violet didn't even notice. She stopped, recited whatever that number was, then went back to playing with Tara. She didn't even blink. None of them did; they didn't even notice. Seriously, it freaked the adults out more than the kids."

"Does Livvy know?" Martin asked.

Buffy didn't have a chance to answer before Jim came back, tossing the slip of paper back down on the table. "Well, we know what they're after now," he announced. "That number? Ten percent of the total population of children in the United Kingdom. They want more kids."

"Buffy!" Xander appeared in the doorway. "There's a car at the gate."

"One car?" Buffy asked, pushing away from the table and walking out towards the front of the castle. John followed her, drawing his gun.

"Yeah," Xander answered, falling in next to her. "The girls are tracking it as an exercise. Faith is with them. I'm not sure if we've got a real threat, though. One car?"

"Might be a decoy," Jim offered.

"Possible. We'll know in a minute." Buffy walked out onto the rampart and looked down. "Huh. Doesn't look like much."

John moved to the wall and looked down, seeing the old car coming towards the castle. "How did they get in?" he called. "Isn't the gate locked?"

"Lost the lock to a demon last week," Buffy answered. "We hadn't gotten around to fixing it yet."

"If this is nothing, we should go down and chain it closed. Just in case," Xander added.

"Good point."

The car stopped, and one of the doors opened. For a moment, no one appeared. Then, an older man slowly, stiffly, struggled out of the car, nearly falling as he did. John stared, then he cursed and turned, running towards the stairs and the door. Behind him, he heard Jim's voice: "Napoleon!"


	8. Chapter 8

 John burst out of the front door and ran down to the car. Napoleon was leaning heavily against the fender; he looked up and smiled as John came closer.

"I'm getting too old for this," he said. "Where's Mycroft?"

John shook his head and looked into the car -- there were hard-sides cases, and a laptop bag, but no other person. He blinked and stared, then looked back at Napoleon. "Mycroft gave himself up to give us a chance to get away. Napoleon, where's Illya?"

Napoleon looked down, then sighed. "He's in London, John."

"No," Sherlock said from behind John. "Uncle, the explosion last night. That wasn't an attack on the department, that was the self-destruct system. Wasn't it?"

"The department's secrets will never fall into the hands of any government," Napoleon answered. "We were interrupted, though, as we were evacuating...." he stopped and shook his head. "I knew we'd never die in our sleep, John. We both knew that."

John's voice froze in his throat. He stepped back, watched as Sherlock stepped forward and hugged Napoleon, then took the older man's arm and started to lead him towards the door. Xander met them halfway, taking Napoleon's other arm. Together, they disappeared into the castle, passing Jim as he came out.

"Where's Illya?" Jim asked quietly.

"Gone," John answered.

Jim looked at him, closed his eyes and looked away. "Shit," he breathed. "Not Illya. Not... _fuck_!" He looked back at John, a wild look in his eyes. "Someone is going to pay for this!"

John smiled. "When you figure out who, let me know. I'll help you."

"You, me, and Mister Wizard?" Jim asked, then stepped back and rubbed his hands together. "Sounds like a date. What do we have here?"

"I don't know," John reached into the car and pulled out one of the cases. He opened it and frowned. "What is this?"

Jim came over and looked into the box, then started to giggle. "Oh, oh, this is good. We're in business now!"

"Why?" John asked. "What is this?"

"This, my dear doctor, is the reason why you should never underestimate our darling daughter," Jim replied. "This is Livvy's key."

#

Jim explained as he worked, hooking the mechanism into the Slayer's computer network. "Livvy is a magnificent hacker, but for an independent, there's only so much you can do before they catch you. We saw that this morning, when UNIT shut us out of their systems. We're good, but they have numbers on their side. Livvy made this little gadget to even the odds."

"So what does it do?" Willow asked.

Jim popped out from under a desk and grinned impishly up at Willow. "It's a universal key. Nothing can keep us out now." He sat down at the computer and looked around. "Where should I start?"

"Thames House," Sherlock said. "What happened this morning at Thames House?"

Jim nodded and started working, his fingers flying over the keyboard. Code scrolled on the large display screen, going too fast for John to read. Not that it would have made any sense to him. The screen blinked, and suddenly they were looking at a large room.

"Thames House," Jim said. "They were recording this morning." He fell silent as a large glass-fronted tank suddenly filled with smoke.

"There's something in there!" Willow gasped.

"The 456," Sherlock murmured.

John nodded, listening as someone ("Frobisher," Sherlock whispered.) started negotiating with the alien, only to be ordered to hand over ten percent of the world's children or face destruction.

"Oh, my God," Martin murmured from the back of the room. "Children... our children... are drugs to them?"

"The first hit was free.... for us," Jim muttered. Then he blinked. "Wait, is that Jack?"

"And Ianto," John added. "What are they... oh, oh, they aren't!"

They watched as Jack and Ianto challenged the 456. Watched as the alien laughed at them and announced it was releasing a virus into the air. Watched the pandemonium as people ran in terror from the meeting room, until only Jack and Ianto were left.

Watched as Ianto died in Jack's arms. Watched as Jack succumbed a moment later.

Jim did something, and the screen went dark. "Well, it appears we know what happened to Torchwood now."

"Not all of them."

John turned, shocked at the sound of Livvy's voice. Martin had grabbed her and was hugging her tightly, then he stepped back and stared at his wife.

"What are you doing out of bed?" he demanded.

"Doctor's orders," Livvy answered. "She wants me up and moving. She said it would help. And I want to help. I want them to burn, Martin. As much as you do. I saw enough of the footage... but I didn't see Gwen in there. Did anyone else?"

"No," John answered.

"She might still be out there. We need to find her."

Jim was already working over the computer. "Already did. She and her husband were taken into custody... about an hour ago. And sent back to Cardiff. And... I've got files, here, too. They're going to do it. They're going to give our children to the 456. The fucking PM ordered it. And... shit. Frobisher's kids are being sent, to show government support." He stopped, blinked. "And so are Mycroft Holmes', if they can be found."

"Now we know why we were sent," Martin murmured.

"Is there anything else about what's happening now?" Livvy asked. She touched the device and added, "And how did this get here?"

"Uncle Napoleon brought it," Sherlock answered.

"Uncle Napoleon and Uncle Lusha are here?" Livvy asked.

"No, Poppet. Just Uncle Napoleon," Sherlock said, his voice low. Livvy looked confused, then gasped and shook her head.

"Oh, no!" She closed her eyes and took a long, shaky breath, then nodded. "Right. So... we need to destroy an alien race and bring down a government. This... is going to be a busy afternoon."


	9. Chapter 9

 "All right, I can see destroying an alien race," Martin said as they all sat down around the long dining room table. "But why overthrow a government?"

"And which do we do first?" Jim added.

"Oh, destroy the alien race first. That's the hard one," Sherlock answered. "Overthrowing a government? That's no effort at all."

Martin blinked and looked at Sherlock. He wasn't smiling. "You're... not joking, are you? He's not. Liv?"

"It would take me..." Livvy cocked her head to one side and frowned. "Maybe twenty minutes?"

Martin's jaw dropped. "That... that fast?"

"If I had my laptop, I could do it in five," Livvy answered. She smiled and covered Martin's hand with her own. "Darling, I'm sorry. You never really know the person you marry, do you?"

"Well, I never knew you were a revolutionary, so I suppose not," Martin answered. "Will you still make breakfast for me?"

Livvy looked confused. "Of course I will. When you don't make it for me, that is."

"Oh, good. I think I'll keep you, then," Martin said with a grin. He looked around the table and took a deep breath. "All right. How do we destroy the alien race? Can we contact Grandfather?"

"No," John answered. "Because we're idiots."

"What? Why are we idiots this time?" Jim asked.

"The only person we know who can contact the Doctor at will is Martha Jones, who works for UNIT," John answered. "I remember thinking that we needed to get that mobile number from her. I thought I mentioned it to Mycroft, but nothing came of it."

"Because who would ever think that UNIT would turn on us," Livvy finished. She leaned back in her chair and looked thoughtful. "I wish the Uncle Alistair was still alive. He'd never have let them do this."

"If wishes were fishes, we'd all cast nets," Douglas said. "We don't have access to the benevolent alien. What do we have? A convenient space-ship, perhaps? A doomsday machine? A history eraser button?"

The silence around the table was deafening, until Willow spoke up. "Martin and I could go take a look," she said.

"We what?" Martin sputtered.

"Go up. Take a look. See what we're dealing with," Willow said. "Astral projection."

"Is that safe?" Livvy asked.

Willow frowned. "It should be. I don't think they'd even notice us."

"No," John said, shaking his head. "No, it's too dangerous. Look, they're controlling the kids telepathically, aren't they? If they catch you sniffing around up there, they'll swat you both like flies."

Martin nodded, frowning. "He's right. But... suppose we look from here?"

"What, scrying?" Willow asked.

"Yes, exactly!" Martin leaned forward. "I've gotten pretty good at it. Do you think it would work?"

"It's worth a try," Willow said. "All right. We'll get ready."

#

"So what are they doing?" Douglas whispered to John.

"Setting a circle. A... a safe space to work," John answered. They had moved into a large room that seemed to be underneath the castle. Standing around the edges of the room were Sherlock, John, Douglas, and John. Livvy had opted to remain upstairs, and had gone to the nursery. Jim, on hearing that the room was underground, had decided to roust Greg and join the Slayers on sentry duty.

"All right. What will they do when they have a space?"

"I don't know," John admitted. "This isn't something I've read about."

Inside the circle stood a large stone table, on which Willow had set a large, flat bowl made of clear glass that Martin had filled with water. Willow had cast the circle, and now stood on one side of the table. Martin stood facing her, rubbing his hands together. He looked up at Willow, then reached down and picked up a small bottle of something dark, which he poured into the bowl. The water darkened, swirling into blackness as Martin set the small bottle back down and looked into the bowl.

"Show me," he murmured, his voice just barely carrying outside the circle. From where John stood, the dark water seemed to change, turning pale blue in places. Next to him, Douglas gasped. "I... I can see something!"

"What?" Sherlock asked. "What do you see?"

"I'm not sure," Douglas said. "Light. Patterns of light. Like... flying over cities at night, really."

"Star fields?" John asked.

"Possibly."

Inside the circle, Martin was frowning down into the bowl. "Willow, what do you see?"

"Not much. Sight isn't my strongest. Tell me what you see?"

"There's a ship. I think it's a ship. It's... hard to tell. There's no sense of scale. But I think it's enormous. Not made for entering the atmosphere, though. The shape is wrong. I can't see weapons, but I don't know if I'd know what to look for," Martin frowned and leaned closer. "It's bloody huge. And judging by the size of the thing in Thames House, there are a lot of them on board." He cocked hsi head to one side. "Yes. I'm feeling... minds. So many..."

"Martin! Pull out!" Willow snapped. "You're getting too close."

"I'm all right. They don't see me," Martin answered. "I'm... not enough to catch their attention. Wait..." He blinked, looked confused. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Willow asked. "Martin?"

He opened his mouth to answer, then gasped and threw one hand out over the bowl, encapsulating it in glittering blue light just as it exploded. He stared for a moment, then looked at Willow. "Something attacked them!"

John whirled as he heard footsteps on the stairs, coming towards them at speed. Xander appeared in the door, breathing hard. "Guys, you want to get upstairs. The kids... they all just went nuts. They all.... I don't know. They seem fine now, but... I don't know!"

Willow dispelled the circle with a word and a gesture. Just in time, as Martin ran for the stairs. John followed behind, thundering up and into the main part of the castle, following Martin to the nursery.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that the chapters are short. Writing time is limited until school starts again!

 Martin burst into the nursery and stopped, seeing Livvy sitting on the floor with Violet in her lap. Livvy looked up, and Martin could see how shaken she was. But Violet showed no signs of being upset.

"Papa!" she crowed, scrambling out of Livvy's lap and running towards him. He picked her up and hugged her tightly enough that she squirmed and complained. "Too tight, Papa!"

"Sorry, Pixie," he said as he loosened his arms. "I... you did a new trick, Xander says?"

"Mama says we all sang. And the voices went away. I don't remember. Down now?"

"Voices?" John said. "What voices?"

Violet looked over Martin's shoulder and smiled at John, "Poppy John!"

John smiled and reached out to tousle Violet's curls. "What voices, sweetheart?"

"Lots and lots. Really far. They whispered a lot, like this," Violet made hissing sounds, then grinned. "When they got loud, we did tricks. But I don't remember the tricks. Were they funny?"

"No sweetheart, they were scary tricks. Let's not do that again, all right?"

Violet nodded solemnly. "Okay, Poppy."

"I see," Martin murmured. "Oh, I can't wait until I see Grandfather again."

"Papa, can I get down now?"

Martin set his daughter down and watched as she ran off to play, then held his hand out to Livvy and helped her up. Helena came towards them, her face pale.

"What happened? Do you know?"

"Apparently, someone figured out how to do to the aliens what they were doing to the children, except in reverse," John answered. "How's Emma?"

"Fine. She never even noticed! None of them did!"

"Helena?" Emma called, coming towards them. "This is nice and all, and I like the Slayers, but when can we go home?"

Helena looked at Martin, who frowned, putting his arm around Livvy and hugging her to his side. "I don't know, Helena."

#

John left Martin with Livvy and the children in the nursery, passing Douglas as he hurried in.

"They're fine, Douglas," he called as Douglas went past. Then he turned, and nearly ran down Carolyn.

"There you are. I was looking for you. Doctor, you need to come--" she grabbed his arm and tugged him down the hall.

"What? What's wrong?" John demanded.

"I heard that Napoleon was here. And what happened. I thought I would check on him. He's such a lovely man, and Doctor Kuryakin is... was... he was a lovely gentleman. I thought I should see..." she stopped outside a closed door, and John was surprised to see Sherlock and Jim both standing guard. Then he realized why Carolyn was in such a state, and he pushed past his husband and his lover and entered the room.

The light was dim, casting long shadows across the man who appeared to be sleeping. John hesitated, then walked over to the bed and reached for Napoleon's wrist. Then his throat. He let his hand fall away and stepped back from the bed.

"In his sleep, do you think?" Jim asked softly. "Or... a last friend?"

John tried to speak, and had to swallow before he found his voice. "I... we'll put it down as in his sleep. I never thought to check and see if he was hurt."

"He'd never have let you," Sherlock said. "You know how he was."

"He should have," John answered. "He should have--"

"Why?"

John turned, looking at Carolyn. She drew herself up and repeated her question. "Why? The man was past eighty, and he'd just lost the love of his life. If the world was sane, they'd have been married fifty years. How many can claim that? And without Illya... well, if I'd been so blessed in my marriage, I can't see how I'd want to go on either."

"But..." John looked back, and saw that Jim had found a sheet somewhere, and was drawing it up over Napoleon's body.

"I'd do it, if I lost you," Sherlock murmured. John shuddered and looked up at him.

"Don't say that. Don't ever say that."

"Then don't die."

#

It fell to John to break the news to the others once they had all again gathered around the dining room table, and seeing Buffy in tears was easily the most startling thing John had seen in the Slayer's castle. Then they sat in silence, until Douglas cleared his voice.

"What do we do now?" he asked.

"Step two. Overthrow the government," Jim answered.

"Is it even worth it?" Willow asked. "Can we guarantee that someone better would be put in power? Someone who wouldn't do this to people?"

"No. But we'd be able to stop them, too, if it came down to it," Jim answered.

"So, would Mycroft want to be PM?" Carolyn asked.

"Good Lord, no!" Greg gasped. "Him? The most private man in the universe? The one who doesn't want to leave the house to go grab a bite?"

"We'll take a look at the possibles, and see what we can make of it. Right now, I'm more interested in what happened today. Who stopped the 456, and how?"

"And what do we do now?" Douglas repeated.


	11. Chapter 11

 Before anyone could answer Douglas, Faith appeared in the doorway. "Buffy? You want to see what's going on outside."

Buffy blinked and rose. "What is it?"

"We're kinda surrounded."

"How did that happen?" Buffy demanded, heading for the door. John got up and followed her, hearing chairs sliding back and the sound of footsteps behind him as he left.

"Absolutely no idea," Xander said as he joined them. "One minute, there was no one. Next... poof!"

"There was no magic," Willow called. "We'd have known."

"Probably not necessary, if they are UNIT troops down there. They probably have some kind of alien technology. A cloaking device or something," John offered.

"It doesn't even need to be alien," Livvy added. "I can think of two groups off the top of my head that have functional cloaking devices. But both are in the US."

"SHIELD and who else?" John asked.

"Have you met Charles yet?"

John frowned, "No, I can't say that I have."

"You'd remember. He's in a wheelchair?"

"No, I haven't."

"Less chatter, people," Buffy said softly. She walked out onto the ramparts, moving towards the wall. John followed her, standing to her left and looking down at the armed men who had somehow gotten past the Slayers on sentry duty.

"So. Nice trick," Buffy called out. "Now why don't you tell me what you want?"

One man stepped forward, and John heard Martin curse softly. He understood why -- it was the same UNIT officer who had confronted them after they'd landed.

"I have orders to take Sir Martin Crieff, Olivia Holmes-Crieff, Captain Doctor John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, and Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade into custody. I've also been ordered to take into custody the minor children Violet Crieff, David and Lucy Lestrade, and..." he paused and looked down at something in his hand. "the minor children Joyce, Jenny and Tara Harris." The officer stepped forward, only to be knocked back several feet as he was hit in the chest by a glowing ball of energy. Buffy glanced at Martin, who shook his head.

"Willow?" Buffy asked, accusingly.

"He's pissing me off," Willow answered.

The officer recovered and glared up at them. "You will surrender--"

"Not on your life!" Xander snarled. "No way you're getting my girls."

"Or any of our children," Martin added.

"I think you have your answer," Buffy called. "Now get the hell off my lawn!"

"Miss Summers, don't make us use force--"

"You won't like what happens if you try," Buffy interrupted. "This is your only warning. Leave. Now." She turned and walked back inside, and John saw a pale glowing shield rise to arch over the castle as he followed.

"All right. How did he know we were here? And how did he know about my girls?" Xander demanded as he came inside. "No one knows about them. My own father doesn't know about them!"

"Mycroft knows," Sherlock said quietly. John turned and stared at his husband.

"You think they broke him?" he asked.

"It's the only logical answer. I think it is safe to assume that Mycroft was compromised."

"Compromised?" Greg spat. "Make it sound genteel, why don't you?"

"We'll find him, Greg," John said. "For all we know, they have him down there."

"If they do, I'm going through them," Greg muttered.

"I'll join you," Martin said, his vice low and dark.

"Like hell you will!" Livvy snapped.

"I'm not letting them take us, and I'm not letting them take Vee," Martin said. "Liv, darling, I was never one to fight before. Not before you. Because I never had anything worth fighting for. Now I do. And I'm not letting them take you from me." He drew himself up and straightened his shoulders. "They took Alexander. Now they're going to pay for that."

"Not for revenge," Livvy murmured. "You're better than that, Sir Darling."

"Thank you. And no. Not for revenge. I just don't know what else to call it."

"The word you want is wergild," Jim said as he came into the room. "The debt owed for the lost of a life."

Martin nodded and smiled. "Yes. That's the word. Thank you."

"What's the plan? Because they're moving into position for an assault, and I don't think Willow's shield's will hold up against the firepower they've got." Jim frowned. "I don't think the walls will hold up, either."

"Faith?" Buffy asked.

"Hit 'em fast, hit 'em hard," Faith said cheerfully. "Before they get into position. The girls could use a real drill."

"This isn't a drill," John said, surprised that his voice didn't crack. "It isn't a workout. Unless you've got proper bulletproof vests for those girls, some of them aren't coming back in. These aren't demons you're fighting tonight."

"Uncle John?" Livvy said quietly. "I have Papa's panic code."

John turned and looked at Livvy's pale face. "Panic code?"

"He never told you?" Livvy asked. "Oh. All right. Yes. We have a panic code, and we can use it once. An old friend that owes him a favor. An old friend with a really big stick."

John went back to the ramparts and looked out, counting guns, counting men. Without turning, he asked, "How long would it take them to get here?"

"Depends on where he is. A few hours?"

"Do it." John turned and looked at them. "Faith, what sort of defenses do you have here?"

She grinned. "All kinds. That front lawn is booby trapped all sorts of ways. We can hold them a few hours."

John nodded, chin tucked to his chest, thinking furiously. "All right. Willow, how long can you keep that shield up?"

"Right now? So long as they don't start throwing things at it, an hour, I think?" Willow answered. "Martin, we should layer--"

"Of course. I'll weave mine in. Never built a shield this large before."

"It's not much different."

"Good," John said with a nod. "Good." He looked over and saw Livvy still standing there. "What are you doing here? I gave you an order."

"Yes, sir," Livvy murmured. She went to Martin's side, kissed his cheek, then hurried out.

John turned once more. "Xander, get all the kids and all the non-combatants and get them into a safe area. I assume you have one?"

"Yeah. Guards?"

"You know the saferoom better than I. Assign however many you see fit. And arm Douglas. Send him in with them."

"Right."

"What do you need from me?" Sherlock asked.

John frowned once more, then looked at Sherlock. "Take down the government. Stop UNIT from behind. Get Jim to help you."

Sherlock's eyes widened, then he smiled. "Oh, you've given me the fun job."

"Have yourself a lark." John spared a minute to smile at his husband, then looked around. "What are you all waiting for?"


	12. Chapter 12

 John had never seen the Slayers mobilize before, not even on the few occasions when they worked with the department. Watching them now, he privately thought that they could give the Royal Marines a lesson or two. In barely any time at all, the Slayers were ranged around the ramparts, and had been stationed in tunnels that ran below the areas where UNIT were encamped. When the time came, Faith told him, UNIT wouldn't know what hit them.

In the meantime, Sherlock and Jim had reported that someone had beaten them to the "overthrowing the government" part of their instructions. Information was flooding the internet about the 456, about the Prime Minister's bargain. The footage from Thames House had gone viral, and the news were reporting riots in many of the areas where the military had been attempting to "innoculate" the children, the cover story that had been presented to the public.

"Why do you think they haven't withdrawn?" Jim asked. "Someone has to have ordered them back by now."

"Have you found anything?" John asked.

"Most military have been recalled to help with the riots. UNIT is proving a stubborn nut to crack," Livvy answered. "I can't get into their systems."

"Which means Mycroft spilled something else," Jim added.

"Hrm..." Sherlock hummed under his breath for a moment, then shook his head. "Not enough data. It would appear so, though. Livvy, try this..."

John left, joining Martin and Buffy in the corridor.

"Want to watch the fireworks?" Buffy asked.

"I'd love to." John fell in next to her as she led the way back out onto the ramparts, where Xander and Willow were waiting. Xander stepped away and let Buffy move into position, with John and Martin standing on either side of her.

"You're still here?" Buffy called out.

"We're not leaving until you cooperate," the officer answered. He frowned as he looked up at them, then pointed. "Martin Crieff, you will come with me."

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it was rude to point?" Buffy asked. She glanced over her shoulder. "Xander? Now."

John heard Xander repeating the word, then the ground below them crumbled, revealing hidden entryways and the waiting Slayers. The UNIT soldiers fell back in shock as they were confronted by highly-trained, supernaturally-gifted teenaged girls, then surged forward. To John's surprise and pleasure, there was not a single shot fired.

"Buffy?" Martin asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"How do you plan to keep the UNIT men out of the tunnels?"

"There are gates, and more Slayers further back, to stop anyone who tries," Buffy answered without turning. "If they get in, they won't come back out unless it's on a stretcher. The girls know not to play around if an intruder gets that far."

John nodded slowly, watching the fighting. There were not nearly enough UNIT soldiers to defeat the Slayers, and it seemed as if they were starting to realize it -- they were falling back, trying to regroup. But the Slayer weren't giving them a chance to breathe...

A single shot rang out, startling John; he grabbed Buffy and Martin and ducked behind the wall, hearing the bullet impact Willow's shield. Slowly, he peered out, then cursed.

UNIT had brought a hostage.

"Enough!" the officer shouted, holding his gun on the handcuffed man next to him. "These... girls will stand down. You will surrender the Crieffs, the Holmes' and all of the children, and you will not interfere any more. Is that clear?"

John heard someone move and looked up to see Martin rising to stand straight and tall. He licked his lips, then stepped up onto the top of the wall.

"Martin, what are you doing?" Buffy demanded.

"I'm coming down!" Martin shouted. Before John could move, he stepped off the wall.

#

It would have been embarrassing if the levitation spell hadn't worked, Martin thought to himself as he walked on air down to the path, the only remaining level surface in front of the castle. Not for very long, but embarrassing.

He canceled the spell just before his feet hit the pavers, and just continued walking forward. the show of magic had the desired effect -- he could see how rattled the UNIT officer was by his display.

"You have a name, I'm sure?" Martin said as he came closer.

"Dennis," the man answered. "Major Dennis."

"Well, Major Dennis, I'm not all that inclined to cooperate with people who threaten my family, invade my friend's homes, and who cause my wife to miscarry. So, given that, and given that I am not in a very good mood right at this moment, I suggest that you and your men leave. Now."

"Or?" Dennis asked. He sounded nervous. Good.

"I told someone once that I couldn't turn people into frogs. That magic didn't work that way. For you, I'm willing to give it a go." Martin held his hand loose, fingers curled. He'd practiced this after he'd done it spontaneously in New York, trained on it with Willow until he had complete control of it. She'd been impressed. Hopefully, it would impress Dennis, too.

Martin stepped forward, closer, watching Dennis' eyes. Now... he unleashed the spell, feeling it wrap around him, feeling the weight of his sword in his right hand, his shield on his left arm. He knew what Dennis was seeing now -- the armored knight right out of Camelot.

"Let him go."

Dennis stared, his face gone stark white, and reacted just the way Martin had expected -- he turned the gun on Martin himself. But Martin was already moving, his arm in motion before the barrel of the gun was level. The spectral sword sliced clean through the metal; Dennis dropped the ruined pistol, let go of his hostage and backed away.

Martin moved forward. "Order your men to leave," he said, his voice quiet but clear.

"I... I..."

"Now, Major Dennis."

"You can't do this! We have our orders!"

"No, he doesn't," a familiar, albeit unexpected, voice rang out from somewhere above Martin's head. The voice was amplified, and American, and Martin wondered just who Mycroft's panic code really called. "Dennis the Menace here is completely AWOL, and has been lying to his team for the past six hours. Am I right, Denny? Tell me I'm right!"

"Really?" Martin asked, stepping back and relaxing slightly. "So all of this was all on his own?"

"Yep," was the gleeful reply. "And someone is in a boatload of trouble, I can tell you. I've been relaying video of the fighting back to his superior officers, and they are not happy." Martin heard a muted roar behind him, and a heavy thump, followed by equally heavy footsteps. "You know, this really isn't my call, but I think you'd better just call off your dogs and run."

Dennis gaped at the figure in gleaming red-and-gold armor standing next to Martin, then nodded slowly and groped for his radio. "Fall back," he stammered. "I repeat. Fall back."

"Dennis?" Martin called out. "Before you leave?" He vanished his sword and pointed. "Handcuff keys?"

Dennis nodded, fumbling at his pocket until he found the keys. He unlocked the handcuffs, then turned and walked away, his back ramrod straight. Martin sent his armor away just before Arthur threw his arms around him in a desperate hug.

"Thanks, Skip," Arthur said. "That was brilliant!"

"Glad you approve, Arthur. Go on inside, I'm sure John will want to talk to you." As Arthur started towards the castle, Martin thought of something. "Have you seen Livvy's father, Arthur?"

"Mister Mycroft?" Arthur asked. "No. Should I?"

Martin sighed and shook his head, shooing Arthur towards the castle. Then he turned to the other man. "What kept you, Tony?"

"Traffic over the Arctic Circle was a bitch. You know how it is." His faceplate retracted, revealing an insolent grin, and he held one hand out to Martin. "Nice armor trick, by the way. You've gotten better at that."

Martin grinned and took Tony's hand, accepting the half hug, then urging the other man towards the castle. "Practice makes perfect."

"What was this about Mycroft?" Tony asked as they walked up the path. "He's missing?"

"He surrendered to UNIT to give us a chance to escape."

"Need me to bust him out?"

"We might. Trouble is, we don't know where he is."

"I can deal with that."


	13. Chapter 13

 Inside the castle, the front entryway was a mob scene. Martin cleared the doorway and found himself grabbed by the shirt and slammed into the wall by a much smaller man.

"What the fuck was that?" John demanded. "Do you think you might have wanted to give me a little fucking warning that you were going to jump off a god-damned building?"

"John, there was nothing to worry about," Buffy said calmly, coming up behind John. "I told you. I've seen him do that a dozen times. He's good at it."

"And, more importantly, he looks good doing it," Tony added.

Wrong thing to say. John turned, snarling, "And who the hell are..." he stopped, seeing the armor and realizing just who the hell it was. "Oh."

"Hi. Tony Stark. Ironman, when I'm in this get up. Nice to meet you. And you are?"

"Papa hasn't mentioned Uncle John?" Livvy asked as she came towards them.

"Oh, this is John?" Tony grinned. "Should have known. Very nice to meet you, Captain. Liv, darling, you look... well, okay. Given what I overheard, you look better than I expected. You doing all right? Because I will totally steal you from this flyboy and lock you up in Stark Tower."

"I'm... about as well as can be expected, given the circumstances," Livvy answered slowly. "Thank you, for coming so quickly. How's Pepper?"

"Radiant as always. She said to tell you that we'll be in London in two weeks, so maybe we can have dinner or something?"

Livvy smiled. "Assuming we're all still alive. Or something."

"Excuse me?" Buffy called out. "Can the rest of us get an introduction to the superhero?"

Martin introduced Tony to the others, and Tony smiled at Buffy, turning on the charm. "Nice to meet you, Miss Summers. You have a lovely home, and a fascinating armed guard... wait. Wait a minute. You're _Buffy_ Summers, right? The Slayer? I've read your file--"

"File?" Buffy interrupted, and glared at John. "I have a file? John?"

"Not with us, you don't," John protested.

"No, with SHIELD," Tony answered. "You were a possible candidate for the Avengers Initiative. You and your partner... wait... Rowan?"

"Willow."

"That's the tree!" Tony agreed with a grin. "Yeah, you two are some interesting ladies. Nice to actually meet you. You wouldn't happen to have a place where I can change, would you?"

"Wait. Before you do, I have a question," John asked. "Are we sure that Mycroft isn't out there?"

"What? Out with Dennis and his goons?" Tony asked. "Yeah. Once I knew that he wasn't legit, I flew over before I engaged, did a little recon. Only person I saw in any kind of custody was your friend there. Arthur. So I called in to Fury, and he's making it a condition of SHIELD helping out with the riots that Mycroft gets found." He frowned, turned slightly. "Just a minute. Yeah, this is he. Oh, hi! I was just talking about you. Were your ears burning? What? No, we're good. Got a rogue UNIT officer out here, though. Major George Dennis. Yeah, he had a castle under siege. No, I'm not joking. Tell UNIT command they've got a lot of resodding to do on this lady's lawn, will you? Jarvis will have the footage in your inbox... now. Great. Gotta run. Call me when you have Mycroft. His family is worried." He looked up and smiled. "Now, what were we saying?

#

"So... how do you know Tony?" John asked Livvy as he handed her a cup of tea. They had moved back into the dining room after Tony had stepped out of his armor, leaving it in a side room with a stern warning to everyone who had gathered not to touch.

"Oh, we met at a conference... what, seven, eight years back? Tony?"

"Eight. You were there with your dad. Had some interesting points to make on A.Is, as I remember it." Tony leaned back and sipped his coffee. "I tried to hire you. Remember?"

"And I shocked you to pieces when I told you I was only seventeen," Livvy answered with a laugh. "We kept in contact on and off, but we really didn't reconnect until after that dreadfulness in New York, when you made sure that Martin and Douglas came home."

Tony shook his head. "Yeah. That was... yeah. I'm still amazed that we're all still here." He turned and grinned at Martin, who was sitting next to him. "And that's when I met the flyboy here, doing his King Arthur bit through mid-town Manhattan. Saved a lot of lives that day. Found him afterwards, because us armored guys have to stick together. We got to talking, and I found out who he was married to."

"I don't know which of us was more surprised by our mutual acquaintance, really," Martin added.

"Small world." Tony drained his coffee and set his cup down. "Now that we've recharged, someone tell me what you guys were thinking, trying to take on world-killing aliens with no backup?"

"It wasn't our idea," John answered. "We didn't even know it was aliens until a few hours ago. And by the time we found out, we were already on the run."

Tony nodded, then tapped one of the two bracelets he wore. "Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir?" a voice came from the bracelet.

"What's going on with Fury?"

"Shall I play a transcript, or would you prefer a synopsis?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "The short version, Jarvis."

"General Fury is quite put out, the British government is in an uproar, The Prime Minister has resigned in disgrace, the Home Office Permanent Secretary has committed suicide, after apparently murdering his wife and two daughters, and the Queen is ready to re-institute a complete monarchy and start lopping off heads."

Tony blinked, looked around the room. "That...is a fairly concise description. Thank you, Jarvis."

"Jarvis, are they still looking for any of us?" Livvy asked.

"Lady Crieff, there is no indication that there was anyone searching for you at all in the past twenty-four hours."

"Wait, what?" John asked, sitting upright. "But... that's impossible. They came looking for us. They followed us here. They knew the sames of all the children--"

"Even the children they weren't supposed to know," Martin murmured. He frowned and looked at Livvy. "There's something else going on here."

"Mister Stark, may I?" Jim asked quietly from the door.

"Sure. Be my guest. Who are you?"

"Jim Moran. I'm... family, in a way." Jim came further into the room. "Jarvis," he started, his accent suddenly very pronounced. "Major... what was his name? Dennis?"

"George Dennis," Tony answered.

"Thank you. Major George Dennis. Can you find any personnel records on him? Any military history? Anything at all?"

There was a pause of at least a second, then Jarvis answered. "There is no such person in the Royal Armed forces."

"That was what I thought. Thank you, Jarvis." Jim came to the table and sat down, running his fingers through his hair. John looked up to see Sherlock standing in the doorway, his face a cipher. "There... is something that Mycroft didn't tell you. Didn't tell anyone. I know, because I brought it to him. And because I did some more research." He took a long breath. "Budapest. Martin, do you remember Budapest?"

"I'm not likely to forget, Jim."

"Those men. Two of them... in the here and now, they are a ten-year-old boy and a nine-year-old boy. I did the research, and I assure you, I am not wrong on this."

"Those men... they were late twenties, early thirties if they were a day!" Martin protested. "And there were three of them!"

"Right. I'll get back to that third one in a minute. Best we can figure is that someone brought those two men back in time. That someone was the third man. Who wasn't a man. He was an alien." Jim licked his lips quickly and glanced at Tony. "He was Chitauri."

"No fucking way!"

"They're shapeshifters, did you know that?" Jim continued. "We found some information in the Torchwood files, and you provided us plenty of cadavers for research. The last assassin, the one Martin calls One in his reports, was Chitauri. And he apparently brought assassins back in time... to kill Sir Martin Crieff."

#

Martin heard the blood rushing in his ears, almost drowning out the sounds of Tony and Livvy calling his name. Someone shoved a glass into his hand, made him drink it, and the strong Scotch burned a path of clarity through his confusion.

"Me?" he stammered. "Kill me? Why? What on earth did I do--?"

"I don't think it's a what you did. I think it's a what are you going to do," Jim answered. "This... Dennis, he might have been another attempt."

Tony smiled slowly. "Want me to go bring him back? I promise not to drop him. Much."

Jim frowned, looked at John. John looked thoughtful, then nodded. "Yes. Want some help?"

"Nah. I'm good. Sorry, honey. Gotta go to work." Tony patted Martin on the shoulder as he stood up. "Look, when we're in London, we have got to get together. You, me, Liv and Pep. Nice little Westchester weekend--"

"Tony!" Livvy gasped, giggling. Martin felt himself flush slightly, more at the reactions of the people around them, who were suddenly very interested in the grain of the wood table, the stones in the wall, and the motes of dust floating in the late afternoon sun slanting through the window.

"What?" Tony protested. "That's not an idiom anyone here would know..." he looked around and noticed the reactions. "...except that everyone here seems to know it. Right. Umm... sorry?"

"It's all right. Go on. Thump on him a little for me, will you?"

"Got it. If I don't see you before London, I'll call." He left the room, moving a bit faster than was necessary.

"Westchester weekend?" They were the first words Sherlock said since he'd come into the room. Martin stared for a moment, then burst into laughter.


	14. Chapter 14

 "This makes no sense!" Jim snapped as he sat down in Tony's empty chair. "If they aren't searching for you, then why that report saying that they were looking to send Mycroft Holmes' kids up to the aliens?"

"Oh!" Livvy sat up and looked shocked. "Oh, he didn't... where's Greg?"

"He's off with the Slayers. He's pretty good at hand-to-hand, and the girls asked him to show them some things," Faith answered. "Do you need him?"

"If he can be spared. I think I know--"

"Out with it, Liv. What are you thinking?" Sherlock interrupted.

"That I may not be Mycroft's only child any more."

John's jaw dropped. "You think he adopted Lucy and David?"

"I think it's likely," Livvy answered. "Papa isn't a halfway person. If he's in, he's all in."

"Which means adopting his husband's children by his first marriage," John said, nodding. "That does sound like him."

When Greg got there, he looked dumbfounded. "He didn't tell you?" he asked. "He never told the family he was doing it?"

"He never said a word. How did he talk your ex-wife into letting him?"

Greg flushed slightly. "I asked him. He asked me if I really wanted to know. I have a feeling that the answer involved large amounts of money, but I really don't want to think of Maggie being that petty. Don't say it, Sunshine," he said, rounding on Sherlock. "I know she was having an affair."

"I wasn't saying a word," Sherlock said without turning from the window. "When did you sign the papers?"

"Just over a week ago."

John drummed his fingers on the tabletop, thinking. "All right. We have too many threads. What do we know?"

"The 456 are gone. Torchwood is gone. UNIT is no longer to be trusted. The government is in an uproar. The only ones of us that they really wanted were Papa, Greg, Lucy and David," Livvy supplied.

"Does that mean we can go home?" Douglas asked. He and Helena were standing in the doorway. "They don't want us anymore?"

"Apparently, they never did," Martin said. "Jim, tell him. This impacts the Richardson's, too."

Jim nodded. "Well, the other things that we know are that there is someone sending assassins back from the future to kill Martin. That was behind Budapest, and apparently, that was behind them hunting you now."

"Kill Martin?" Douglas asked. "What on earth for?"

"Something I haven't done yet, apparently." Martin shrugged and rubbed one hand over his face.

"Anything else we know?" John asked.

"How about what we don't know?" Jim asked. "We don't know where Mycroft is. We don't know who or what stopped the 456, or if it was a permanent stoppage, or just temporary."

"Permanent," Martin answered, almost absently.

"Sure about that?" Jim asked.

Martin nodded, yawning. "The voices are gone."

Silence around the table, until Willow leaned forward. "Martin, how do you know that?"

Martin frowned, then blinked. "Oh. Was I wandering?"

"I think so. When did you last sleep?" Willow asked.

"Define sleep. I think I slept a bit in the van--" Martin's voice cut off as he yawned again, wide enough to crack his jaw. "Excuse me."

"You are excused. Straight to bed, Sir Darling," Livvy said fondly. "Come on. I'll tuck in with you."

"Wait, what else don't we know?" Martin asked.

"Who or what is trying to kill you, and why?" Douglas suggested.

"Oh," Martin answered. He frowned, nodded. "That one will fix itself, in time."

"True. All right, then. If the danger is over, I'm taking my family home. If that's all right with everyone?" Douglas asked as he looked around. "If someone can call for a car?"

"You can borrow one of ours. And I'll send a Slayer with you, just in case."

"I'll go," Faith volunteered. "I wouldn't mind a road trip."

"Very well, but you have to sit next to Arthur," Douglas told her as they left the room.

#

Once Martin and Livvy had left the room, John looked around. "We should get some sleep, too," he said.

"Not until we know," Sherlock answered. Jim simply nodded.

"We're used to running on no sleep during a crisis," Buffy added. "Is there anything else?"

"Just... I'm seeing parallels. Remember when the Doctor referred to Willow as The Great Witch? When I asked him why, he said it was because of something she was going to do. Now someone is trying to kill Martin, because of something he is going to do."

"Do you think they're linked?" Willow asked.

John shrugged. "No idea. No way to know. But has anyone tried coming after you?"

Willow shook her head, then looked at Buffy, who said, "If anything did, they'd have to go through the coven, the Slayers, Xander, Kennedy and me. I think Willow is pretty safe."

John nodded, looking over at Sherlock. "What are you looking at, love?"

"The UNIT soldiers."

"They're leaving, right?" Buffy asked.

"No."

#

"What the hell are you still doing here?" Buffy demanded as she stalked towards the only UNIT officer who was brave enough to face her. John followed in her wake, wondering if the corporal knew what he was getting in to.

The young man saluted, his face very pale. "Begging your pardon, Ma'am, but we were ordered to stay and assist in clean-up."

"Clean-up?" Buffy asked, stopping.

"The mess, Ma'am." The corporal blushed. "I... I'm very sorry, Ma'am. We didn't know he wasn't really one of ours. What with the aliens, and it was all... and he comes in and tells us he's taking command."

"And you followed, like good little soldiers."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Who ordered you to stay?" John asked. He held up his military ID, and the corporal saluted smartly.

"Sergeant Zbrigniev, Captain."

"Ah. Very good, corporal. Carry on." John stepped back and waited until the corporal had saluted again and gone back to his men.

"Zbrigniev is real?" Buffy asked. She turned and started walking back up towards the castle. John fell in next to her.

"Yes. He's a prat, but he's real. And he probably won't have a command when this is over, since he went along with the mess." John took a long breath and let it out slowly. "We'll probably be out of your hair in a day or so."

"Honestly, John, you are the least of my worries," Buffy said. She folded her arms over her chest as she walked. "They knew my nieces' names. Why?"

"Red herring?"

"Maybe. Can we take that chance?"

John sighed, not knowing what else to say. He looked up and saw a red-gold streak flashing over the castle. "There's Tony."

Buffy shaded her eyes and looked up. "He's alone." She glanced at John and grinned. "Westchester weekends? Your family has some really relaxed views on relationships."

"That was the first I'd heard of it," John admitted. He stopped and watched as Ironman circled over the castle, then slanted into a dive. "He's seen us. I think he's coming down to meet us."

That was the case, as Tony landed on the path a few meters ahead of Buffy and John. His faceplate retracted, and he nodded. "Found him. Well, sort of."

"Which him."

"Both, actually. Want the news, or should I tell everyone at once?"

"Just tell me this. Is Mycroft alive?" John asked.

"Yeah. Banged up a little. But alive, and on his way here. Fury says they'll be here in an hour or two. He's having Mycroft checked out by SHIELD medics first."

John let out a long breath and felt tense muscles relax for the first time in hours. "Thank you. The rest can wait until we have everyone together."

"Works for me. Martin still awake?"

"I hope not," John answered. "He's exhausted, and shouldn't be doing magic."

"Right now, he's exhausted enough that he shouldn't be walking," Buffy added. "Come inside, Mister Stark."

#

It was the low hum that woke Martin, a droning, mechanical hum that had to come from some sort of aircraft. He slipped out of the bed without waking Livvy and walked over to the window. It was dark outside, but the full moon rising cast a shimmering silver glow on the sides of the giant metal fortress hovering over the castle.

"The SHIELD helicarrier," Martin murmured. He admired it for a moment, wondering what the controls were like, then stopped to think about why it might be here, of all places. Then he blinked and went back to the bed.

"Liv?" he whispered, leaning down and kissing her cheek. "Sweetheart, wake up."

"hhmmmm?"

"I think we have news about your father."

She was awake in an instant, a trick that never ceased to amaze Martin. "What?"

"The SHIELD helicarrier is over the castle. I can't think of another reason for it to be here."

Livvy got out of bed slowly, wincing as she moved. Martin went to her side immediately. "Darling?"

"I'm all right. I'm sore, is all. Heather said I would be." Livvy licked her lips and looked up at Martin. "I want to try again, Martin."

He smiled, leaning down and kissing her. "I do, too. We'll talk to Maggie and to Sarah, see what they say. When it will be safe. And this time, I'll take leave. We'll spend the entire year in Sussex."

"I'd like that. Until we both get bored, that is."

"I'll keep us from getting bored."

Livvy looked quizzically at him. "How?"

"No idea. Card tricks. Maybe I'll learn to joust. Something. Let's go." He took Livvy's arm and led his laughing wife into the hallway and back towards the dining room. Tony and John met them on the way.

"Hey, flyboy!" Tony called, sounding unnaturally cheerful. "You're looking deliciously rumpled. The both of you." He joined them, kissed Livvy on the cheek, then paused. His eyes darted towards John, and Martin tried not to laugh. Instead, he leaned over and kissed Tony on the lips.

"Good to see you, too. Better, now that I'm awake and can appreciate it," Martin said as he took Tony's arm. "What did you find out?"

"Interesting things," John answered.

"Interesting in the 'aw, fuck, here we go again" sense," Tony added. "Come on. I'll brief you while we wait for Fury to bring Mycroft down."

"He's all right?" Livvy asked.

"Well, he's chipped in a few places, but I'm told the resale value is good."

"Tony!" Livvy reached across Martin and punched Tony's arm lightly. He laughed and held the door open as they entered the dining room.

"Well, we're all here," Martin said, looking around the room. "Except... oh, right. Douglas took his family home."

"They called, about half an hour ago. SHIELD intercepted and offered to fly them the rest of the way," John said.

"Good. So what do we know? Did you find Dennis?" Martin asked as he helped Livvy into a chair, then sat down next to her.

"Yes and no." Tony sat down across from them. "I didn't find him, but I found where he jumped back to wherever he was from. And the energy readings are consistent with the portals that were used in New York."

"So he was Chitauri," Jim murmured.

"Yeah..." Tony said slowly. He looked away, rising and moving over to the window. "Thought so. There's a helicopter coming down."


	15. Chapter 15

 They assembled out on the ruined lawn, watching as the helicopter lowered gracefully to the ground. The door slid open, and a tall black man with an eyepatch jumped out. He turned back into the helicopter, as another man came around the front and joined him. Together, they helped Mycroft out of the helicopter. Martin heard Livvy moan softly next to him, and put his arm around her shoulders. Mycroft's right arm was in a cast and sling, the white plaster visible to his shoulder, and when he walked, he limped badly, and moved with the stiffness of a man in pain. Fury hovered next to him, watching him closely, the two of them followed by the third man.

As they cleared the helicopter blades, Greg pushed forward and quickly closed the distance between them, stopping just in front of Mycroft. Mycroft looked into his husband's eyes, then looked away.

"I warned you--" he started. And stopped when Greg grabbed him, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"Shut it!" They all heard Greg growl. "Just... shut it, you damned idiot."

Fury stepped away from them, then nodded to the other man, and they walked the rest of the way up the path towards the waiting group. "I believe I am safe in assuming that is the Detective Inspector?" he said to Tony.

"Safe bet, yeah. Let me introduce the family." Tony kept it simple and surprisingly straightforward as he introduced everyone to General Nick Fury. Martin smiled and shook the General's hand, and was surprised when Fury grinned.

"I remember you," he said. "You're Crieff, the crazy Brit with the sword. Never did have a chance to talk to you afterward. That was some nice work."

"Thank you, sir," Martin stammered.

"Really, you did a great job for a civilian. You were a big help," the other man said. He smiled and held his hand out. "We've met, but I doubt you remember. Doctor Bruce Banner."

Martin took the offered hand. "You're right, I'm afraid. I don't remember. I apologize..."

"It's not a problem. I... looked different."

Martin frowned, thinking back. It had to have been in New York. Too short for Captain America. Definitely not the archer or the Norse God. That left...

"Oh."

Banner grinned. "Nice to meet you." He moved on and greeted John,

"Who was that, Martin?" Livvy murmured.

"The Hulk," Martin whispered back.

"Oh." She looked at Banner as he chatted with Tony. "He seems very nice."

"All right. Let's get Mycroft inside and comfortable," Buffy said, her voice carrying. "Then we can debrief. We've all got questions, and I think General Fury and Mycroft have the answers."

"You sure you want them?" Fury asked.

#

The debriefing was delayed by both Livvy and Sherlock insisting on seeing Mycroft. Livvy hugged her father, kissed him, then met his eyes and nodded, once. Mycroft's eyes closed, and he nodded in response. Then Sherlock stepped forward, looked at his older brother, and kissed him on the forehead. He stood on Mycroft's right as they walked up into the castle, Mycroft having refused the offer of a wheelchair. Inside, they settled once more around the dining room table.

Mycroft looked around the table, then looked at John and spoke, his voice rough and gravelly. "Doctor? Report."

John looked down at his hands. "Three... no, four confirmed fatalities. One missing, although I won't say presumed dead until I see her body."

"Anthea didn't report in?" Mycroft asked slowly. "Then..." he stopped. "Napoleon and Illya didn't get out?"

"Uncle Lusha and Tobe didn't make it out. Napoleon reached us. And... he died in his sleep, Papa," Livvy said.

"You said four," Mycroft said to John.

"Don't be dense, Mycroft," Sherlock scolded quietly.

"Ah... ah, yes." Mycroft swallowed and nodded. "Anthea may have been forced to go to ground. The Richardsons are here?"

"They've been and gone," Buffy answered. "Once we knew it was safe, they left."

"We picked them up and flew them back to London," Fury added.

"Thank you for that, by the way," Martin said.

"You're welcome. Now, what do you know?"

Martin stayed quiet and listened as John listed what they knew about the 456 invasion, and what they knew about the attack on the castle. Fury was scowling by the time the list was finished.

"And you're certain that this man was Chitauri?"

"Without an autopsy, I can't be one hundred percent certain," John answered. "He could have been human and working for them. But the object was the same -- they were here to kill Martin."

"General." Tony leaned forward, his arms resting on the table. "The energy readings where this Dennis character jumped back through time were consistent with the ones we got off the portals in New York."

"Oh, that is not good," Banner murmured.

"Why? Why not good?" Martin asked.

"If the energy readings are consistent, that would seem to indicate that they have the same power source. Which means..."

"In the future, the Chitauri have the Tesseract," Fury interrupted Banner. "The question is, how? How do they get it from the Asgardians?"

"And why use it to try and kill Martin?" Sherlock asked. "I don't like dealing with time travel. It's messy. Too many variables."

"Well, try logic," Jim suggested. "Why go back in time and kill someone?"

"To change history. To stop them from doing something. We've gotten that far on our own," John said. He shook his head. "Really, we don't know. And guessing will do more damage than we can know. I can't be the only one who's read those stories. Go back in time, kill a butterfly, change the universe? How do we know?"

"We don't. So we don't worry about it," Martin said firmly. Everyone turned to look at him. "We don't. We can't! I... I can't live like that, worrying about what's going to jump out at me. I know. I tried. And... Grandfather said I needed to live, to not let the past drag me down. I've been doing that. I can't let fears of my future -- of any possible futures -- stop me, either."

Fury nodded, looking as if he approved. "Nicely said, Martin."

"Thank you. You have no idea how badly my hands are shaking under this table," Martin admitted with a smile.

"I do," Tony volunteered from Martin's right. Martin glared at him, and Tony smirked in response.

"I have a question," Livvy said. "What happened to the 456? They were destroyed?"

Mycroft took a long breath and paused before answering. "They... were destroyed. Doing so has destroyed Torchwood, and it may also have destroyed Jack Harkness--"

"Jack? What happened to Jack?" Greg asked.

"I saw him. At UNIT, before I was... delivered to General Fury," Mycroft said. "They brought him in for debriefing. He... there were twelve children, in 1965. But only eleven were delivered. One was left behind, scarred from the contact. He grew to be a man, but he could hear them, still. When they noticed, they killed him. But Torchwood captured the frequency they used, and turned it back on them."

"How?" John asked. "We figured they might have used the children--"

"They did. Jack..." Mycroft closed his eyes again. "Jack chose to use the only child he had access to as the focus for the transmission. His grandson. The... boy died. Jack... cannot. However much he wishes to."

"Oh, God," Willow murmured. "Poor Jack. I can't even imagine how you make that choice?"

Mycroft swallowed, looking down the table at Livvy. In a small voice, he answered, "I can."

#

Mycroft's energy flagged soon after, and Greg insisted on taking his husband to bed. Buffy collected Willow and left as well, asking only that they be finished with their conference in time for dinner. Once they were gone, Jim looked around and asked, "Now what?"

"Now what... what?"

"The department, John," Jim clarified. "The Hub is gone. Half our people are gone. Mycroft... he's not coming back. Whatever they did to him in there, he's not coming back from that."

"What was done?" Sherlock asked, looking at Fury.

Fury met his gaze for a long minute, then nodded. "Torture. You see the results of that. What you don't see is that once they'd broken his defenses, they locked him in a room with a telepath." He looked away, towards the door where Greg had taken Mycroft. "Mycroft Holmes went from being the man with all the secrets to being a man without a single one. UNIT knows them all."

"Daddy?" Livvy said slowly. Sherlock turned towards her.

"Yes, Poppet?"

"Burn them."

Sherlock smiled. "With pleasure. Jim?"

"Oh, I get to help? Hurray!"

Fury waited until Sherlock and Jim were gone before looking at Livvy. "Do I want to know?"

Livvy smiled sweetly at him. "Probably not. Just a bit of recreational anarchy. Nothing of any concern to SHIELD."

Fury snickered. "I see what you see in these two, Tony."

"Mine!"

"Well, it appears we're all out of a job," John said, leaning back in his chair. "I suppose I could go back to locum work--"

"Unless you'd like positions with SHIELD," Fury interrupted.

"Excuse me?"

"I can always use trained agents. And..." he glanced at Tony and Bruce. "I'm short a right hand."

John went very still. He licked his lips slowly, then looked at Martin. "Your thoughts?"

"Right now? Not a single one," Martin said. "I... am not a superhero. Not like Tony, or Doctor Banner or the rest of the Avengers. And I don't want to be!"

"That's what makes you a good one," Tony murmured. "The not wanting it part."

"But I don't!" Martin insisted. "Look, I'm a pilot. A civilian, commercial pilot--"

"Who has already helped save the world three times that I know of," Tony interjected. Martin elbowed him in the ribs.

"All I've ever wanted to do was fly. That's still all I want. We have to rebuild MJN -- losing GERTI will hit the company hard. I have a family to take care of. I just... I just buried my son. And..." he paused. Frowned. Then looked at Fury and said, "When would you want me to start?"


End file.
